


Ghost Prince: An ATLA FanFiction

by EraserJester



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Child Abuse, Chit Sang is Amazing, Dead!Zuko, Descent into Madness, Emotional Hurt, Episode: s03e14-15 The Boiling Rock, Found Family, Gen, Ghost!Zuko, Guilt, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Hurt, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, I hope, Insanity, Parental Hakoda (Avatar), Post-Episode: s03e14-15 The Boiling Rock, Pre-Episode: s03e14-15 The Boiling Rock, Regret, Sad boi hours, Survivor Guilt, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko is dead, bamf zuko, ghost zuko, i think, red ghost, this is a bitter fic with a sad and sweet end, zuko is a ghost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EraserJester/pseuds/EraserJester
Summary: Zuko was thirteen years old when he challenged an old general to an Agni Kai. His father fought for the general.He was thirteen years old. He wasn’t a prodigy.Zuko died when he was thirteen years old with his uncle sobbing at his side.Zuko turned into a ghost when he was thirteen.Azula’s brother’s voice joins her mothers in her head. They’re little whispers that make her want to scream and claw her eyes out.—-There is a ghost in their group. Hakoda cannot trust the red spirit, even after he helped Sokka break Hakoda out of the Boiling Rock. There is something wholly Fire Nation about him that Hakoda despises.That is, until he actually talks to the ghost.
Comments: 103
Kudos: 526





	1. Your Father Is A Killer

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been ignoring my other fics. I know. I’ve entered a short story contest that’s taken up most of my time (and I’ll be sure to show it to you guys if I don’t win lol) was feeling a bit burned out so I took this old AU of mine and cleaned it up a bit, hope you like it! Won’t be that long, maybe a few chapters I think? Anyways, I really hope you guys enjoy this :) I’ll get another chapter up as soon as I can!
> 
> P.S I’m posting this when it’s nighttime at my place, please don’t be afraid to tell me if you see any typos (._.)

Iroh stared worriedly at Zuko. His hands were clasped together. "Zuko..." Iroh began slowly, like he still had a chance to convince his nephew not to participate in the Agni Kai.

The prince shook him off with a wave of his hand. He was thirteen years old and drunk on empathy that was going to lead him to his doom. Zuko was wearing his morning robes, and was going to change into his Agni Kai attire soon. "Don't worry, Uncle." Zuko mustered a brave smile. "The General is older than you!"

Iroh sighed. "Age does not mean deficiency, Zuko." His nephew was the same height as him, with no doubt that he would grow much more.

"Yeah, but have you seen him? He's not secretly strong like you, Uncle, he's all thin and sickly! This will be easy." The young teen drummed his fingers along the desk. His papers and scrolls were meticulously shelved alphabetically on the shelf above his desk beside his small dragon paperweight that Uncle had bought him the paperweight when he laid siege to Ba Sing Se.

"Once I defeat the General we can recall the forty-first division! Think, Uncle! An entire division, saved from slaughter by that old General!"

"I admit, your virtues are clear, Zuko. But your goal is not what I am worried about." Iroh looked out the window, where servants seemed to be dashing to their destinations a little faster than usual. 

"Then tell me, Uncle, why are you so worried?"

Iroh looked away from Zuko's wide innocent eyes. "...An old man worries too much, Zuko. Take no heed from me, just be careful. Please."

"I am!"

Iroh didn't reply. 

He would regret it all. 

—-

"I'm sorry...but I won't fight you, Father." Zuko bowed, head shaking in front of his father. The crowd booed and hissed. They jeered, waving their hands. 

"Coward!"

"-and he's supposed to be the firstborn?"

"-shameful-"

Zuko knelt, shaking. "I-I can't fight you!" His voice echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls. 

He felt the looming presence of his father over him. It seemed Ozai had spanned the length of the stage in an instant, and he was less than a foot away. He strode closer, and Zuko saw the cruel glint of his eyes. It had always been there, but it seemed Ozai's eyes were simmering with malice today. The Fire Lord strode closer. Ozai curled his lip, and he sneered.

"Pathetic." His voice boomed. 

Zuko tried to stand, but Ozai was quicker. He backhanded the young teen across the face and Zuko, too surprised to make a sound, fell onto the hard ground. The slap was frighteningly loud, and the nobles cheered harder. 

"-what a loser-"

"-no honour at all-"

The noble's cruel comments were getting to Zuko. The young prince had curled into a ball, hands over his ears, the exact opposite of the fearless boy he’d been hours ago.

Ozai marched forward, once again. His steps were loud and purposeful, it was as if he had been waiting for this moment. 

"Fight, Zuko."

Zuko didn't answer, just stared bleakly at his father, a red mark on his face where his father had slapped him. He tried to back away. 

In the stands, Iroh and Azula were seated together, relatives of the Fire Lord. 

—-

"This is a sudden turn of events" Azula said silkily, twirling a lock of black hair around her finger. "I would rather be seated with Mai and Ty Lee, Uncle. I think the nobles have a better view."

Iroh bit his tongue, trying to ignore Azula's sharp words, so similar to her father's. It seemed Ozai had taught Azula everything he knew in the art of speech, when to say something and when to say nothing. Azula yawned, daintily covering her mouth with one hand. "Oh, I wish Father would finish it already." She snapped her fingers, calling for a servant. "So very bothersome, sitting here, watching Zu-Zu embarrass himself for the hundredth time, don't you think?"

"Hold your tongue Azula," Iroh said sharply, turning away from her. He did not want to deal with his niece's antics at the moment. 

His eyes were glued to Zuko. "Nephew, I'm sorry" Iroh whispered. In his hand, he clutched a White Lotus pai sho tile. The intricate designs of the tile cut into his palms. 

—-

"You dare to dishonour me?!" Ozai's angry shout touched the ears of every single spectator. He picked Zuko up by his neck. The crowd cheered. The Prince gasped for air, thin fingers pulling uselessly at Ozais iron grip. 

Iroh wanted to look away but he wouldn't, couldn't. Azula leaned forward in hungry anticipation of what was yet to come. 

"You lack respect, Zuko" Ozai snarled. His other hand, the one not holding Zuko, lit on fire. 

"You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher!"

Ozai punched the thirteen year-old in the face, right at his left eye with a hand full of fire. Zuko did not fly backward as one would think, instead the Prince fell gracelessly onto the floor while his face was devoured by flames. The nobles cheered. 

Azula's face was surprised, her mouth in a little 'o' shape for an instant, before her mask slipped over herself once more with frightening effectiveness. She hadn't thought that Ozai's would really kill Zuko. 

Iroh swallowed back bile and blinked back tears. 

_I'm sorry._

_Zuko._

_I'm so sorry._

\---

Iroh had to wait for all of the Agni-blasted nobles to leave. It was horrible, sitting there and staring at the unconscious body of Zuko. He was not dead yet, his chest was still rising and falling, ever so slightly. 

The nobles took their sweet time. They chatted about senseless things as they filed out of the room, and it took every ounce of Iroh's self-control not to scream at them. Azula had left shortly after Ozai did, without speaking to Iroh. 

_Niece, have you fallen too?_

From his vantage point in the stands all Iroh saw of Zuko was a small figure crumpled on the stage. It was so much worse up close. 

As soon as the last doddering noble had left Iroh scrambled to the stage, where the sight was too horrible. 

Red. Everything, red. 

Torn tissue, burned skin. Red, all of it. Red, red, red, just like his days in Ba Sing Se, filled with blood. 

Iroh carried Zuko with efficiency, making sure the boy was breathing. But the sight of the left side of his face...oh, that was terrible. Torn skin, revealing what lay beneath. Sure to leave a serious scar. If Zuko lived that long. 

Iroh was the one to carefully bandage Zuko. Iroh cleaned up what skin was left on Zuko’s face, hoping for some sort of reaction. But Zuko did not move, he just lay on his bed, still in his Agni Kai garb, his chest falling lighter with every breath. 

The only sounds were the soft splash as Iroh wrung out another damp cloth. There really wasn't much one could do for burns without a water bending healer. 

Iroh lay damp cloths on the Prince's forehead in an effort to quell his rising temperature. He felt Zuko's forehead with the back of his wrinkled hand. 

Too hot. 

Way too hot, even for a firebender. 

He made sure to bandage the wound best as he could. Iroh worked with the efficency of experience, of helping his comrades in need at the height of war.

Who would have thought palace life so similar to the battlefield?

Iroh patted the Prince's hand lightly. "I'm sorry you had to go through this, Zuko" the Dragon of the West said softly, holding back tears.

Zuko first. Tears later. 

Iroh continued into the night, when everyone had gone to bed. Ozai had not made an appearance since the Agni Kai, nor had Azula. Iroh bit back a rush of anger. Ozai had done this to his firstborn, his only son. Iroh's heart hurt, to remember how cheerful Zuko had been when he was younger and compared with the wounded figure on the bed now. 

_Uncle, Uncle! Come with us to Ember Island!_

_Uncle, look what I can do!_

Iroh remembered when Zuko would jump around, believe it or not. When Lady Ursa was still in the castle Zuko would stick by her side constantly, jabbering away about this or that. 

_Ozai. You've changed for the worse, little brother._

_You've turned into Azulon._

Iroh continued, constantly cleaning his burned face and changing bandages and reapplying ointment, not directly on the wound but near it so not to cause infection.

_Zuko._

_I'm sorry._

_So, so sorry._

_\---_

_My face feels like it's burning._

_I guess it is._

_I can't see._

_Everything is dark._

_Too hot, too cold._

_Everything is spinning._

Zuko felt someone dabbing at his face. It's not Mother. She's gone. 

A creased hand squeezed his own, and he smelled a familiar ginseng in the air. _Of course. Only Uncle would deign to help me._

But he could not hold on forever.

Zuko was too weak to do anything. All he could do at the moment was to concentrate on his breathing. But even that was hard. 

_The air smells smokey._

_Smoke in the air._

_My face hurts._

_A lot._

_Uncle?_

\---

_I can't lose you, Zuko._

_I lost Lu Ten._

_I won't lose my nephew._

He put a hand once again to Zuko's forehead. Too hot, same as before. Agni, why wasn't his temperature going down?

There was almost nothing Iroh could do to heal burns. After all, it was the Earth Kingdom they burned. Not one of their soldiers. Anything else, Iroh would have solved. Broken bones, fractures, dislocations. But burns. The only thing that could help was time. 

That was something Zuko was so terribly lacking. 

Iroh knew when his nephew was going to die. It was well past midnight, the only light was a candle by Zuko's bedside and the Prince's breaths were fast and short. His chest heaved with every breath. The burn injuries on his face had not lessened, and in fact they had simply gotten worse. Iroh stayed by Zuko the entire time, doing nothing else but gripping his hand. 

There's nothing else I can do. 

He felt the same kind of helplessness he did when his comrades had died, when his son had died. Nothing he could do, other than pray for light along their way to the heavens. 

Suddenly, he felt Zuko's hand tense around his, just the faintest squeeze. He looked at Zuko. The thirteen year-old had not opened his eyes, but he had opened his mouth. Iroh leaned closer, feeling his nephew’s warm breath near his ear. What came out was a hushed whisper that Iroh strained to hear. 

"I'm....sorry, Uncle."

Iroh felt tears streaming down his face that he could not control. "You have nothing to be sorry about" he said fiercely, squeezing Zuko's limp hand with his own gnarled and wrinkled ones. But Zuko continued like he hadn't heard him. 

"I'll...make it...next time."

Before Iroh could cry, Zuko continued, one more word. It would be his last. 

"...promise."

And Zuko's hand loosened around Uncle's and his head fell to the pillow with a soft thump. His hand lay open, all the strength gone from it. 

Then Iroh finally let himself sob. He clutched Zuko's lifeless hand and cried. 

No one heard him. 

_Zuko._

_Nephew, you're gone._

_No, no, no._

_I'm so sorry._

_Zuko._

They came for Zuko's body in the morning. 

\---

Ozai and Azula did not attend Zuko's funeral. 

—-

Iroh trembled in his room, a rich thing full with useless trinkets and lovely patterned carpets that were embroidered with gold threat that made him want to vomit. His son smiled serenely at him, from the little portrait on his desk. Lu Ten had been too young when he’d died. So had Zuko. 

He grieved, but an emotion that was stronger than grief had wormed its way into his old and broken heart. Hatred, a deep hate and anger towards his little brother. Horror, that a father could kill his son. Disgust, that Ozai didn’t even hesitate.

Fear, at Azula and her reaction when her brother had been killed. He supposed that most of that was his own fault, for not reaching out to her sooner. He’d always paid more attention to Zuko, the few times he’d come home after his war campaigns. 

The ceremony would be starting soon. He didn’t know if Ozai and Azula would show up. Perhaps it would be better if they didn’t. 

—-

Mai took a deep breath. One. Two. She washed her face before taking a shower, in an attempt to rid herself of the smoky smell of burnt flesh that had seeped into everyone’s clothes. 

She would never see Zuko again. 

She would never glance at him then look away again. 

Her mother and her father had been only the mildest bit distraught. While Ukano’s face had been set in stone, her mother had placed a protective hand on her pregnant stomach.

While Mai’s hair was drying, she finished up another calligraphy piece. Controlling the brush was easy, just like her swords. A flick of the wrist here, a bit of pressure here, nothing hard. 

Zuko. 

Zuko. 

Zuko. 

Dead Zuko. 

Poor, cheerful, kind, Zuko. 

—-

Ty Lee went to Mai’s house right after the Agni Kai. She didn’t know if her parents even noticed or not. Having quite a few other sisters made a single one invisible. 

One of the pages greeted her at the entrance of Mai’s house. “Lady Mai is busy at the moment. She’ll be ready soon.”

“Okay!” Ty Lee bowed at the sight of Mai’s mother. “Are you feeling fine, miss? Do you need to rest?”

Mai’s mother laughed warmly. “You don’t need to worry so much, Ty Lee. I’m sure my baby and I are perfectly fine.”

“If you say so!” She forced a smile when she saw her somber reflection in one of the polished antiques that sat on a shelf. “Oh! Mai!”

“I just had a shower.”

Ty Lee linked her arm through Mai’s and they strolled through the courtyards. It was a marvellous day. Except none of them could enjoy it, in the wake of the horror that had just occurred. “Are you okay? Mai?”

Mai clutched her friend’s arm. “Be quiet.” They walked around the corner before Mai spoke again, in a strained voice. “No. I’m not okay.”

“That’s fine.” Ty Lee blinked back her own tears. “I’m not, either.” She took another breath. “Do you remember when Azula put an apple on your head?”

“And she set it on fire? Yeah, I remember.” Mai couldn’t keep the tears out then. They streamed down her face, extremely unlike her normal mask. “Zuko knocked me over, because he was scared that I would have caught on fire.” She paused, realizing the cruel irony of it. 

“Are you going to attend the funeral ceremony?” Ty Lee hastily swiped the tears from her face as she said that. “You don’t have to, Mai. I can talk to Azula-“

“You don’t have to do that.” Mai bit her lower lip. A mask. Quiet. Mask all emotions, mask all tears. “I’m going. For sure. It’s the least I can do for him.” She gazed out from the courtyard to the Palace, where Azula resided. “Better get ready.”

—-

Zu-Zu was gone. He was gone, dead. Forever. 

Azula traced a finger over Zuko’s pearl-handled Earth Kingdom dagger. _Never give up without a fight_ , that was what it said on the side of the dagger sheath. She supposed that Zuko had done that. He’d never given up, until he’d been at death’s door. 

She’d taken the sword from his room almost right after the Agni Kai. Zu-Zu’s room was going to be completely stripped of all furniture and decorations, until it looked like no one had lived there in the first place. 

Poor Zuko. 

In another life, Azula might have protected him. She might have held his hand, hugged him, even. Maybe they could have laughed together, bonded over some silly event, like the countless stories Ty Lee could tell of her own sisters. 

_Sorry, big brother. I guess it’s obvious who’s going to be Fire Lord now._

Cracks in the mask. Cracks in the smile. Azula breathed in a deep breath and breathed out, looking out her window. The walls had eyes, ones that Azula was certain were there (other than her mother, of course). 

_Squish the feeling. Grind it under your boot until it becomes nothing more than a parasite, nothing._ She grinned her teeth. God damn it, why didn’t Zu-Zu _leave_ her mind?

Behind her, was an ethereal wisp. A trick of the light, perhaps. Azula didn’t know, for she heard a faint ‘ _bye, La-La_ ’ and when she whipped around, eyes wide and fire on her palms, it was gone.

It was her twelfth birthday tomorrow. 

She better get ready.

—-

_Southern Water Tribe_

_Seven months before Season 1 Episode 1_

"Shu, come back soon, okay? I heard the winds are going to pick up."

"Okay, Mama!"

Shu hefted his bucket and stumbled outside. He lived with his mother, but lately his mother had been getting more tired. 

_I have to be strong, like Daddy._

_I hope he's okay._

_We're Southern Water Tribe. We're definitely going to be okay!_

The little boy gathered some snow into his pail, walking farther away from the village as he went. 

_I shouldn't lose my gloves again. Mama will be mad._

He glanced at the ocean. 

_The water looks kind of scary._ This was a very sensible thought to have at night, when walrus-bears were active, and orca-sharks were awake, not to mention fox-wolves. 

But the pail fell from his hand and he stared at the red figure standing at the edge. 

He was glowing, smoke occasionally floating up from his shoulders. His back was to Shu. The ghost was translucent, and everything Shu saw through him was a sort of distorted red. The smoke that wafted up from him disappeared in the cold South Pole air. 

Shu stared, open-mouthed at the ghost (he was seven years old, of _course_ the paranormal didn’t faze him).

The ghost’s hair was tied in a customary bun on top of his head, wearing armour that turned smoky at the ends. Truly, a monster.

His mother, along with the other women of the village, had told stories of dead warriors and old magic at work, summoning spirits and beings to haunt the land. Those stories were very exciting, and Shu and his friends would lean forward, eager to hear what happened next. 

But hearing and seeing were two different things. It was only now that Shu finally acknowledged how _haunting_ the ghost looked. He stared across the vast ocean, reaching a smoky red hand to the waters. 

Then the ghost was gone. 

Shu continued staring at where the ghost was. Perhaps he thought by sheer force of will he could summon the ghost back. 

"Shu, hurry up!" Shu spotted his mother's silhouette from her hut, waving for him. The little boy picked up his fallen pail, running back. 

"Coming!"

He couldn’t wait to tell Sokka!


	2. Hey, Ghostie (Don’t Call Me That!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated! This is higher priority than my other fics at the moment because I’m planning on keeping this short ish :)
> 
> Note: I’ve updated Chapter 1 a little, around the end. It gives a little more detail into the consequences of Zuko’s death for Iroh, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee. Please read that part if you haven’t!
> 
> Once again, I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for reading!

Sokka clapped a hand over his forehead. 

Again. 

He breathed in. Slowly, steadily, then he breathed out. “Okay, did you get it?”

Silence, from the little group in front of him that were usually the most rambunctious kids on earth. Some feigned boredom as they fake-yawned. Others had abandoned all sense of etiquette and were sprawled onto the hard snow in the process of making more snow-angles. 

“Sokka?”

The Water Tribe boy lazily cast another glare onto Shu, who had just raised his hand. “You better not be asking for a bathroom break” Sokka grumbled sourly, leaning onto his whale-bone spear. He’d been trying to teach the kids how to use it but they _would just not learn, and it was so frustrating._

“Well, actually, I _did_ want to go pee-“ the little boy hastily backtracked when he caught Sokka’s glare. “I can go later! I just wanted to ask - does that spear work on ghosts?”

“ _Ghosts_?” Sokka gripped his spear tighter. He would have preferred to ignore the topic of ghosts entirely, in fact. They were nothing more than superstition that his mother used to keep him and Katara in line. When she was alive, of course. He hadn’t heard supernatural tales in a long time; his Gran-Gran could intimidate him with just a look at certain times. “There are no ghosts, Shu.”

“Are so!” The little boy argued. It is curious, when little children argue so furiously for something they’ve barely trifled with. “I’ve seen a ghost!” 

Heads turned, including one certain fellow who rolled over and ended up with a face covered with snow.

“-Ghost?”

“-That’s what Shu said!-“

“- They don’t exist-“

Now that Shu had garnered a smidge of attention he seemed hell-bent on keeping it. “Yep! I saw a ghost, he was all red and-“ Shu pulled down one side of his face and stuck out his tongue. “-one side of his face was all burned off!” For more emphasis, Shu wiggled his hands. “-There was smoke coming out of him, from his shoulders, and it went up and it looked so cool-“

“We get it, Shu” Sokka interrupted. He did _not_ have the time to discuss some red dead ghost with kids. “Blah blah blah, ghost this, ghost that. None of that is important right now, okay? I’m supposed to be teaching you how to use a spear! Now-“ But Sokka rarely got his way with the little kids of the Southern Water Tribe. Shu, a rather stubborn little boy, crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue at Sokka. “-Bleh! They exist! I _saw_ one!”

Sokka threw down his spear, where the tip sunk into the top layer of the snow. “Class _cancelled!”_

—-

“Dearie, what’s got you all in a twist?” Gran-Gran smiled. 

“What makes you think I’m mad?” Sokka stirred his congee, albeit a little more aggressively than usual. 

Katara elbowed him in the gut. “For one, you’re not gulping down your food” her nose wrinkled, as Katara remembered her brothers atrocious table manners. Sokka elbowed her back. “Hey! I do _not_ gulp down my food!”

“Sokka, Katara” Gran-Gran started, but it was enough to stop the Water Tribe sibling’s bickering. Sokka slowly ate a spoonful of congee. For some reason, the seal-walrus chunks in the congee didn’t taste as good as usual. “Shu’s been talking about ghosts again. He’s disrupting my classes.”

Katara _tut-tutted_ into her bowl. “No one even pays attention in your class, Sokka.”

“Shu, you say? Aatar’s son?”

“I think so” Sokka said hesitantly. “ He lives with his mom, he’s seven years old, a little too chatty.”

Gran-Gran nodded. “What makes you think Aatar’s son is lying?”

Sokka groped for words that seemed to elude him. “W-Well, it’s _obvious_! Ghosts don’t exist!”

There was a light, a knowing look in Gran-Gran’s eyes that didn’t sit well with Sokka. “Really, my dear? You don’t believe in ghosts?”

“Of course not!” Sokka sputtered. “They’re just stuff mom told us to scare us, like the Kemurikage!” He refrained from talking about how the Kemurikage had scared Sokka from going out at night without his father for a long time. 

If he believed in ghosts beforehand, maybe Sokka wouldn’t have been so startled when he finally saw the red ghost with his own two eyes. 

—-

_Chatty Shu, going on about ghosts and disrupting my class._

_Katara didn’t need to say that no one pays attention in my classes._

_Gran-Gran doesn’t actually believe in ghosts, right?_

These were all valid thoughts that ran through Sokka’s head as he trooped around what was left of the Southern Water Tribe, lantern in one hand and whale-bone spear in another. He’d patrolled the Water Tribe almost every night since his dad had left, and he hadn’t seen any sort of red apparition. 

Of course, Sokka had never thought about, but the ghost was watching _him_.

—-

Azula watched with detached satisfaction as the tree split in half. Its lovely cherry blossoms were crushed under the boot of her sensei as he praised her with senseless words. Lo and Li watched with impassive faces, while Mai and Ty Lee nodded in unison. “Great work, Azula”they chorused. 

She needed to be better. 

The lone heir of the Fire Nation needed to be unstoppable, needed to be invincible. 

Not a hair out of place. 

Later, in her room, Azula rubbed the hilt of the pearl-handled dagger that she’d stolen from her brothers room, three years ago. The handle had been rubbed shiny smooth, while the blade reminded pristine and untouched. 

She did not miss her brother. 

She did not miss her brother. 

She did not miss her brother. 

She did not miss her mother, either. 

They were gone, like cherry blossoms that existed to die. 

—-

The teenager’s hair is in a wolf tail. It means honour, in the Water Tribe’s culture. 

Zuko had honour once. 

It was burned away, just like his body. 

The warrior (his name was...Ska? Saka? Zuko had only heard his name once, when a kid was calling for the Water Tribe teen) continued his patrol. It was a well-thought patrol, that started off with him checking the elders and ended with him ensuring all the children were safe. He clearly cared for his people. 

Ozai wouldn’t be able to relate.

But the boy was the only warrior. A lone wolf, if you will. There were no commanders, no patrol officers, and definitely no leader. Zuko found it most peculiar, how the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe had never appeared. Well, he’d only been around the Tribe for a few months. Maybe that was how things worked. 

Zuko followed the wolf-tailed warrior (Ska? That sort of sounded like his name. Zuko was sure it started with an S and had a K somewhere in it) around. The Southern Water Tribe was pityingly small, and it was a wonder how it hadn’t been completely wiped off of the map yet. 

—-

Sokka massaged his temples. Today’s patrol had gone smoothly like always, but there was still some sort of tension that wrapped around his head. He was thinking too much, about ghosts and dead mothers. These things did not need to be cathartic, nor did he think they were supposed to be. 

_No ghost tonight_. 

_Hope it stays that way._

Sokka was never a lucky person. 

“You forgot your spear outside.”

He screamed. 

—-

Zuko frowned. He thought he was doing a perfectly normal introduction. He’d noticed the warrior had left his spear outside, and thought that he would appreciate it if he told him where the spear was. 

Sokka backed up against the wall, chest heaving and hands grasping the air for any kind of weapon. “You-! _You’re a_ -“

“Ghost. I’m a ghost” Zuko finished flatly. 

By the time Sokka had finished screaming, the ghost had decided to show himself out. 

—-

_Disgusting._

_The ghost’s face was that of a child’s, smooth and without scars, save for the horrifying wound on one side of his face._ Sokka dimly remembered something his father Hakoda had said once. ‘ _The way a ghost looks can determine a lot, son._ ’ Did the red ghost _die_ like that? Burned? That would be a terrible way to go. 

“Sokka?” He heard footsteps, and turned around to see a sleepy Katara, who had just thrown on her parka. “Is something the matter? Gran-Gran and I heard you scream.”

Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. “O-oh, um, no. There was a bear-fox outside. I took care of it, though.”

—-

The second time the Sokka and the ghost met, it was Sokka who made the first move. At first, he thought he was hallucinating when he spotted a translucent red figure at the edge of the Southern Water Tribe. It was around midnight.

He tried to be sneaky, going up to the ghost. But it is very hard to be stealthier than a ghost. 

Just as Sokka thought he would have the upper hand, the ghost spoke. “Hello.”

It was a hushed voice, like someone whispering to Sokka. The voice was terrifyingly high, like a child’s voice. Perhaps that was what the ghost was. “What do you want?” Sokka cringed inside once he spoke. He didn’t mean to come off so rude. 

But the ghost wasn’t mad. He tilted his head and glanced towards the stars. “I’m just passing by.”

“I don’t believe you.” Sokka would eat his parka if the ghost was just ‘ _passing by._ ’

“Hmm.” Sokka didn’t know ghosts could hum. “I’m not that interesting, Water Tribe warrior. Do you have a name? I can’t refer to you as ‘Water Tribe’ forever.”

Sokka puffed out his chest. “I’m Chief Hakoda’s son.” There, that was a good answer. Nothing too show-off-ish there, right? Just a royal status. The ghost _obviously_ knew who Chief Hakoda was, right? 

“Oh, Okay.” The ghost did not look concerned with the title of Chief. “But what’s your real name?”

“...Sokka. You?”

“I don’t want to tell you.” He was annoyingly blunt, something that Sokka didn’t like. But Sokka didn’t dare get any closer, with the smoke that rose from the ghost every few seconds. 

“..Okay, _Ghostie.”_

“ _What did you call me_?” The smoke suddenly doubled in volume, and Sokka swore there were wisps of flame that started at the edge of the ghost’s form. Sokka threw up his hands. “Chill, buddy! I’m just saying, if you don’t want to tell me your name, then _Ghostie_ is the only way to go.”

The smoke disappeared. “You can call me Zuko.”

“That’s a Fire Nation name” Sokka accused. 

“That’s right” Zuko agreed, staring Sokka. Blue eyes met a single golden eye, and the other was lost in mangled burnt skin. “ _What are you going to do about_ it?”

“Don’t hurt my people.” Sokka gulped, and he clenched his hands into tight fists as he looked at The ghost was slightly shorter than him, just another factor in the ever-growing string of _whythehellisthisghostsoyoungandbloody._

“Sorry?”

Sokka took another step, less than a foot from the glowing apparition. “You heard me. Don’t lay a hand on my sister, my grandmother, or anyone else who lives in the Southern Water Tribe _.”_

There was silence for a moment, before Zuko ( _stupid Fire Nation name, despicable Fire Nation that killed mom-_ ) spoke. “I wasn’t planning to hurt anyone.”

“It better stay that way.”

There wasn’t much else to say, really. The ghost came and went. Somtimes he stayed. Sometimes he didn’t. But Sokka somehow felt the teeniest bit reassured, when he saw a wisp of red at the edge of the Southern Water Tribe. 

He didn’t see the need to tell Katara; the ghost wasn’t doing anything. She would probably overreact. 

—-

“Hey, something happened today. Something kinda big.”

“Yeah?” Zuko asked slowly. Sokka had never really gotten over how Zuko’s voice was, like an echoey thing that would disappear if you didn’t lean in and listen properly. 

“We found an airbender. His name is Aang.”

Zuko vanished, after that sentence. Sokka didn’t try to look for him.

—-

_Uncle was right_. 

Zuko sat on one of the steps of the Royal Family’s villa on Ember Island. The steps were dusty and the bottom half were rotted away from the constant sea spray. No Royal Family would be visiting here in a long time. 

_The Avatar’s really alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not going to stress too much over romantic relationships in this fic, as I do not have the skill to do so. I hope you guys liked this chapter, just a little bridge with Zuko and Sokka’s (budding) friendship. We will have Aang, Katara, and Toph soon! But I’m really excited for the Hakoda part to be honest :D
> 
> Comment your thoughts! I love to read them!


	3. Time Past Has Done Us All A Disservice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update: life and general procrastination :/ but I’m back now! Anyways, onto the story! I'm trying to move things along quickly, as season 3 is what I really want to spend time on. I hope it doesn't look too rushed.

Iroh is a grieving man placed over a heart that's lost far too much in a lifetime. The person he is now is the farthest thing from the feared Dragon of the West, who laid siege to Ba Sing Se. Now, he's a bitter old man with enough connections and just the right about of stale respect that's landed him in the middle of the ocean with Admiral Zhao.

He originally volunteered for the impossible task of helping Zhao find the Avatar because he needed time away from the Fire Nation. Zhao still hasn't caught on to the fact that Ozai despises him and would like him to stay forever at sea, but that's for another story. The past three years on the boat have been no better than time at home, and the howling of the winds still remind Iroh of people he could have saved.

Iroh doesn't think of himself as an overly spiritual fanatic, but there's enough proof of vicious spirits at sea that he needs to think twice about the strange wisps of orange that appear in the corners of his eyesight but disappear as soon as he looks their way. When doors slam with more force than necessary, and when a mysterious wind has scattered his scrolls, Iroh needs to wonder who's at work there.

"If we go here-" Zhao moved a small piece across his war map. "-we'll be coasting towards the Southern Water Tribe and we'll be able to find the source of the bright light much faster!"

Iroh looked towards the horizon, feeling the calming lull of the waves. "Very well, Zhao. Jee! Set directions towards the Southern Water Tribe!"

No matter how much Zhao detested it, the crew very much preferred the retired Dragon of the West over him.

—-

"Wow! You're really a ghost?" Aang stretched out a hand, like she wanted to touch Zuko's skin.

"That's the third time you've asked that, Aang. Yes, I am a ghost."

"Hey, Zuko?" Sokka leaned against the edge of Appa's saddle. "You don't need to sit on Appa, right? Can't you just-" he waved his hands in the air. "-do some ghostly stuff and just appear wherever you want?"

"Yeah. I could. But I want to stay with you guys" Zuko said simply. He was still dressed in his Fire Nation armour and his hair was still tied, prim and proper (save for his fresh scar, of course) it was less obvious to see his ghostly glow in the sunlight.

Aang turned around from where he was steering Appa, so he could still talk to Zuko. "Can you turn invisible?"

"Yes. I can." He changed the subject. "So, where are you headed?" He expected for Aang to go to the Earth Kingdom, to try and find a master, but Aang thought differently. "The Southern Air Temple! My friends are waiting for me there!"

"Don't go there." The ghost had suddenly appeared right at the Avatar's shoulder and Aang jerked away in surprise, causing Appa to veer off erratically for a moment. "Woah! Try to be a bit less quiet, will you?"

"I said, don't go to the Southern Air Temple" Zuko repeated, with much more urgency. "Don't go, please." His voice carries no depth; it's a rushed whisper.

"Zuko! Don't worry, we'll be fine!" Aang grins. "I grew up in the Temple!"

The ghost disappears. Katara pats Aang's back. "Don't worry, Aang." Her voice turns more somber. "I'm...sure...that your friends are all waiting." Sokka sends her a dirty look as she lies.

Later, at the Temple, the Avatar rages at the corpses of the airbenders.

—-

Sokka spots the ghost again, at the edge of Kyoshi Island, where the shore falls away into water. "Hey! Ghostie!"

For some reason, Zuko cannot go near him, and so Sokka walks towards the ghost. "You left us. At the Southern Air Temple" Sokka says, accusingly.

"Sorry." Zuko changed the subject. "I can't talk much here. Too much history on these grounds. Kyoshi's essence is strong here."

" _Essence_?"

"Whatever's left of a person's spirit after they die. Most have little to nothing, but an Avatar usually leaves traces of power around the world where they were most prominent." Zuko stretched out a hand, and it stopped centimetres from Sokka's face as if he were unable to reach further. "Kyoshi's essence repels spirits and ghosts." He crossed his arms and paced from side to side. "I can stay here, on the shore" he said quietly. "If you want me to."

"Yeah. I want you to wait for us." Sokka sat down beside Zuko, close enough that he could feel some sort of weird heat radiating from the ghost; not enough to warm him, but enough to draw him into the ghost.

"Okay." And once again, the dead child disappeared without a warning, and Sokka smacked a hand against his forehead. "Come on!"

But beige enough it or not, Zuko was true to his word. Every day, when Sokka came out of his room on Kyoshi Island, there would always be a strange orange glow at the edge that would disappear if he got any closer.

Katara was wary of the ghost. "Zuko! What a _Fire Nation_ name" she griped, as she and Sokka went through the market to buy food.

Sokka nodded in agreement with his sister but he had to interject. "C'mon, Zuko's not _all_ bad..." he mumbled, but he found out that he couldn't exactly come up with a rebuttal. Indeed, what good came from defending a ghost who hadn't really benefitted them at all?

His sister sighed and added more apple-peaches into her bag. "Aang seems to like him, so I guess we should allow him to be near us."

"Mm-hmm" Sokka nodded. "Say, what's Aang up to now? I thought he wanted us to leave as soon as possible."

"Oh, right." Katara's voice turned frosty. "He said he was going to ride the Unagi or something like that."

" _WHAT?_ "

—-

"Get off the Unagi, Aang." Zuko appeared in front of the Avatar, while he was wading through the water. He seemed to float in the air effortlessly; the two were so far away that none of Aang's fanatical fan girls could notice the small ghost.

The Avatar yelped and stumbled back. "Spirits, you scared me!" But right after he puffed up his chest and pointed towards himself. "Nope, I'm not backing down now!"

—-

Zuko watched in disgust, as Aang flailed around with the Unagi. He had been ten times as disciplined at the age of twelve; but just as Zuko was about to go on his rant, he glanced down at his translucent hands and glowing armour.

He'd decided from early on, that he would appear in soldier garb. Better to be thought of as a victimized child soldier than a disgraced son.

 _Maybe the kid can let loose a little_ he thought begrudgingly.

That thought was quickly replaced by another, when Zuko spotted a Fire Nation ship heading their way.

—-

"Don't we tend to stay away from Kyoshi Island?" Iroh bent down to pick up a lotus tile on the deck on their ship. "Their inhabitants aren't exactly welcoming to Fire Nation."

"Don't be a fool, Iroh" Zhao sneered. "They'll tremble at the very sight of our ship docking near their land."

Iroh hid his expression behind a sleeve; he'd grown quite used to the stupid, grieving mask that he'd worn for over three years.

—-

"Aang. There is a Fire Nation ship near Kyoshi Island. I think it's tracking you."

—-

The Kyoshi warriors are ready for the Fire Nation soldiers, and they attack with fearless passion that the soldiers lack. Iroh watches from his view on the ship; an old man like him is definitely past his prime, right?

He pulls his weight when it comes to his soldier's lives, of course; he won't let anyone die under his rule, not anymore. But he can let them suffer a bit, tackled under the onslaught of Kyoshi Warriors.

—-

Azula's lonely.

Really, really, lonely.

There's no one to bother, no one to make fun of.

Mai doesn't come over anymore, and Azula doesn't feel like commanding her. Ty Lee says her aura makes her feel bad, that's enough reason for the usually-cheerful acrobat to become muted and quiet around her.

Too bad for them, anyway. Azula's been occupied with new classes, as of late.

Classes on how to rule, how to dictate, how to make peace.

Classes that would have been given to the heir to the throne.

Well, technically, Azula _was_ the heir now. No one else to fight her for it.

It was more work than she'd thought. So this was what Zu-Zu had been burdened with on a daily basis? No wonder he seemed to...weak, so brittle around her. 

When he was alive, of course.

Azula believes in spirits, unlike her foolish father. She knows the stories her absent mother had regaled her with the she was younger are real. She knows that spirits can be wrathful, or they can be as docile as a fire ferret.

She knows that ghosts walk on the same ground she does, that some watch her. There are wisps around the Fire Nation Palace, of people long gone, haunted nobles, tortured criminals, spirits that are thick with loathing and whatever else strong emotion that's keeping them grounded.

There's been a new addition to the bunch. It's not her mother though; Azula is confident that Lady Ursa is alive somewhere. It's not her brother; Zu-Zu can't possibly have that strong of a will to stay behind in a world that's burned him to ashes, right?

Azula sighs. She's late for her class.

\---

Ozai is a happy man.

He is a very happy man.

He loves discussing new war tactics with his obedient generals, without a pesky son to challenge him. He loves it when he walks down the halls and he doesn't smell the strong stink of ginseng. Iroh's gone on an ill-fated search for the Avatar, and Ozai hopes he won't be coming back anytime soon. And Zuko? Well, he's in a better place now.

Azula's his perfect angel, and he beams and she learns the art of lightningbending with more skill and power than Zuko could ever dream of.

He is a happy man indeed.

He loves walking down the hall of Fire Lord Tapestries, and he beams at his own, much more grand and majestic than his stupid brother's.

Yes, Ozai is a happy man.

He could not be happier.

—-

Since he's died, Zuko has made no move to confront his family members. He leaves his father along; he is a man Zuko will never want to haunt. His sister deserves more time than he gives, and both she and her uncle can sense him, somehow, even if he makes himself invisible.

It sends a sharp stabbing pain into his heart (do ghosts have hearts?) when he sees Iroh sobbing in his room on the ship one time. It's only a glimpse of what the Dragon of the West has gone through, losing the Siege, losing a wife, losing a son, then losing the next best thing.

He doesn't know where his mother is. He cannot find her.

\---

Sokka doesn't know if ghosts can fight people, but he wishes that Zuko didn't disappear, right as the Fire Nation warship docked and unloaded at Kyoshi Island. At first, he'd thought that Zuko was really a spy, but that was replaced by a frantic _oh god we need to get out of here_.

They had escaped without any harm to themselves, but Kyoshi Island had been set on fire, and Suki... he hoped she was fine. Of course she would be fine, what was he even thinking?

"Aang? Are you alright?"

The Avatar sighed, as he steered Appa this way and that on their way to the Earth Kingdom. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's thanks to Zuko, that we got away in time. Say, where is he?"

Sokka cradled the hilt of his boomerang. "He disappeared after he spoke to you. We saw him in the sky, when you were riding the Unagi; one second he was there, and then-" he snapped his fingers. "Gone. I think he lied to us, I think he's a spy!"

\---

Omashu is a fortress, and its architecture reflects that. The buildings end in spirals, layers and layers of brick packed onto every wall. The entire city is covered in a thin layer of sand, in the people's hair, in their shoes, in their clothes. 

Underneath the dry and harsh exterior, was a great underground with tinted green and yellow lights, not to mention rocky jennamite growing in the corners. 

And that's what made it _so infuriating_ for Zuko as he shoved his way through the jennamite. Spirits didn't do well through crystal, and it was taking a toll on the ghost as he became more tired. 

He swore he'd seen the Avatar come in here, somewhere...

Found it. 

And all of a sudden, he was in an arena, watching the Avatar and the King of Omashu fight it out.

"Oi! Ghostie!" Sokka was on the other side of the arena and so was Katara, but both of them were almost completely encased in jennamite. 

"Don't. call me _ghostie"_ Zuko said through gritted teeth. 

\---

"So, what? We're supposed to believe you, that you were trying to find us?" Sokka said grumpily, as the team flew on Appa, trying to find somewhere to rest for the night. 

"Yes" Zuko said shortly, crossing his arms. "That's what happened. I don't see why you keep on trying to make me look like the bad guy."

"We don't need to do that!" Sokka narrowed his eyes and glanced at Zuko's uniform. "You're already dressed like the enemy, and all you need to do now is act like it, ashmaker!"

"Hey! No fighting!" Aang called from his spot. 

\---

Haru was okay, but Zuko still didn't trust him that much; the earth bender wasn't even aware that Zuko was there. 

His hunch turned out to be right, when the old man reported Haru to the guards as an earth bender. 

All Zuko wanted to do then was for the Avatar to leave, but Katara had other plans. The only thing Zuko could do was slap his hand over his forehead as Katara engaged a prison breakout. 

"Why'd you save them?" He demanded, later, when they were in the sky. "People all over the world get taken by Fire Nation soldiers every day for being an earthbender."

"That's the thing!" She shot back. "We need to help them! Being taken away by the Fire Nation _isn't normal_! And besides-" Katara laid down, beside her brother. She touched her bare neck. "-even though I lost my necklace, I think it was for a good cause" she said softly. 

Zuko was silent, before he spoke once more. "Wasn't that a gift from your mother?"

"Not gift, exactly." Katara massaged her temples. It hadn't been a gift. It had been something Katara had taken from her mother's dead body with trembling hands. "..Think of it as a heirloom."

\---

Zuko cocked his head, as Aang paced the room. "What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_??" Aang whisper-shouted at the ghost; most people of the Earth Kingdom village were still sleeping. "The people here are expecting me to deal with a _Hei Bai_!"

"So?" the ghost blinked. "Aren't you the Avatar? You should be skilled in this, right?"

\---

"Wait a minute. You've _never_ calmed down a spirit before?!" Zuko pinched the skin between his eyes. "Agni help me."

\---

Ty Lee can feel something in Azula. There's something wrong with her, more so than usual. 

The Princess celebrated her fourteenth birthday a week ago, and it had been as splendid as she'd ordered. There had been dancers, performative fights, and long poems of flattering prose all dedicated to the Princess. 

Usually, Azula might have shared a small smile, but now, all she had done was nod and put on a stony face. 

And Ty Lee hadn't seen her in a few days; Azula had called for private lessons, now that 'she was the lone heir.'

Ty Lee bit on her nails, as she walked with Mai, past the turtle-duck pond. They used to play there with Zuko and Azula together, when they had been more happy and young. "Mai? Do you think..." she thought for a moment before continuing. "Do you think that things could be different?"

Mai's answer was quick. "With Azula? Never."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: Hei Bai literally means "black white" in Chinese. 
> 
> For some reason, I love writing Ty Lee, Mai, and Azula in this AU. It just works. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment! Tell me what you think! I sort of want to add more angst in later chapters, haha! And I promise the next update will be quicker (for real this time, I already have the next chapter mostly scrawled down)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Like + Comment, so I can see your thoughts :) 
> 
> [My Tumblr: Asks/Questions and AUs along with other stuff](https://eraserjester.tumblr.com/)


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